


Ghostwriter

by shawarmother



Series: YOI Collab Game 2: Creepypasta AU [4]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety, Chatting & Messaging, Creepypasta, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Long-Distance Friendship, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mystery, Social Media, Suspense, Thriller, Urban Legends, enthusiastic bilingual swearing, more tags to come, mostly mine, yoi collab game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 05:12:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11776209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shawarmother/pseuds/shawarmother
Summary: Yuri is an (almost) fearless urban explorer, who used to be an aspiring sportsman, but never got enough money to keep paying the coaching fee, thus eventually coming to questionable ways of getting some cash to support grandpa and himself.Otabek is the kind of person that can get you a ton of info on any place out of nothing. Yuri has explored many places under his guidance and that changed them both, but after that one urban legend about people going missing, and what they found, things were never the same again.And neither were them, what they built together and their trust.Yuuri is an author of creepy stories that got little attention, until a certain voice actor recorded himself reading them and Yuuri’s popularity skyrocketed. As Yuuri finds out more about a person who breathed life in his stories with his acting, he finds himself getting attached. What he never tells is that all his stories are true.What neither of them says is that they fear they thought each other out.One of them is correct. In a way.Both plotlines intertwine.Written for the 2nd round of @yoicollabs on Twitter.





	1. Chapter 1

The metal slug of a train wailed from the tunnel, low and rumbling, and the next second there was a whiplash of hot air, shooing away everyone who were standing a little too close for comfort. Intentionally or not. Bet they weren’t even sure themselves, caught up in a routine.

It’s just what the city does. Always did. And the heights. Makes you look down and consider something so alien you think someone else is whispering to you to take a leap. It’s that distance compensation thingy your brain does, nothing else. It also does the shadow shtick when you’re canned on your way to Kurskaya and your face is neatly spread on the window glass. Gray, you think, should have gotten myself more sleep. Yawn so hard something clicks in your jaw. Close your mouth and smack your lips.

And your reflection does just so, but maybe half a second later.

And you definitely don’t remember having teeth like these.

There are the screeches and shadows and bright sparks, and it’s just the train moving. Nothing else. And pretty much everyone here looks super dead in the mornings, making their way to the promise of a future they can hold onto, so. No wonder they’re not smiling. And that’s bound to happen daily, that’s the creepy stuff, not this… And have you seen those glasses, like, everyone looks like the walking dead extras in these. And they’re double, plus the motion, thus the… the jaw thing.

There is nothing in the tunnels but the things and people that have to be there.

Yura knew it for sure. He did explore two metro lines. The light blue and the yellow ones.

Just enough to give him an idea how to come back for more and not get caught. That is, if he’d ever leave his gramps and be free to roam as much as he’d like.

Yura won’t. Never will.

They’re doing well, mostly because of him, but it’s not… there are lots of “buts”, actually. Butts. A giant ass they’ve gotten themselves into like the rest of those who refuse to leave Moscow for something cheaper when the plan is going downhill, nice and slow, like the Titanic, so you don’t even notice. Right until you get used to endure toothache for months before you get just enough to pay. There’re just no free slots in state clinics. No biggie. Who needs teeth anyway when the tiger’s still got his claws.

The regret is faraway and bitter, like a memory of the aftertaste of something you didn’t like as a child. It’s long gone but it still makes you cringe.

Hell, Yura still thinks sometimes what would have happened if they’d had enough money to keep paying the coaching fee. Coulda taken him to Piter, maybe.

He’d do anything from then on.

It hurts to think about it. It hurts even more to watch gramps looking sad and guilty every time they stumble upon anything skating-related.

Well, fuck skating. Too bad they lost Yuri Plisetsky.

Guess he’s just needed elsewhere.

A gentle _ping_ in Yura’s ear made him grunt over the interrupted song, and yet he smiled looking somewhere past his weird reflection.

He is, indeed.

Once Yura got off, he bolted towards the steps, reading the message as he did. The photographer was about to arrive at Serpuhov a bit earlier than they had arranged but they were fine with waiting. Good to know. Yura could have told them to catch a bus to Protvino without him, but he lost a tourist once. Shitty story. Never again.

Running up the escalator Yura remembered something peculiar about whatever he saw minutes ago. Something that has been bugging him since he absent-mindedly regarded the teeth of his yawning reflection. Something shyly knocking at his skull when the chill morning air bit at his cheeks, or rather what’s out the flu mask.

Yura doesn’t remember taking it off in the train.

He gritted his teeth as he marched towards the commuter trains, nearly forgetting to buy a ticket.

He doesn’t believe in paranormal shit. He makes money busting some assheads’ claims about haunted buildings. Sure. Also dark cults lurking along with the hobos. He makes money on the kind that’s now waiting for him to bring his bony ass to Protvino. Ghosts are good. If there’s no ghosts, oh well, some pretty shots will do too. That’s it.

Yura inhaled and exhaled as if could help.

It kinda did.

The irrational fear born from infuriating inconsistency left his trembling lungs bit by bit, until the encounter has transformed into whatever shit the map guy admitted liking once, why does Yura even remember it? Maybe because he wanted to DM him several times just to elaborate stuff. He didn’t for some reason. Weird.

Or the things the creepypasta forums were into. Or whatever was left from Mrakopedia. Or that NoSleep stuff Yura got used to google translate, furious he can’t understand every word. That one guy who keeps writing shit even though everyone keeps telling him to quit.

Yura both wants and doesn’t want him t̵o do ̢so.̨

**͡*̶

**͏ ↑**

**̸2̴8͏03 ̵ ͟But he refused.**

**↓**        submitted 17 hours ago * by yuullbk05

**260 comments   share  report**

**top 200 comments** show all 260 **  
** sorted by: **best**

 

  ↑   [–] **poooetry** 509 points 16 hours ago  
  ↓   dat undertale ref lol  
**permalink embed report**

                 ↑   [–] **yuullbk05 [s]** 3 points 16 hours ago  
                 ↓   It’s not.  
**permalink embed report**

                                ↑   [–] **poooetry** 132 points 16 hours ago  
                                ↓   k sure  
**permalink embed report**

 ↑   [–] **~TailBlaze~** 453 points 15 hours ago  
 ↓   not you agaaaain  
**permalink embed report**

 ↑   [–] **amalaa2121** 114 points 7 hours ago  
 ↓   back at it again with crippling case files imitations  
**permalink embed report**

 ↑   [–] **cartmansfatass** 51 points 1 hours ago  
 ↓   cool  
**permalink embed report**

 ↑   [–] **erg0n0micc** 19 points 23 minutes ago  
 ↓   Wait, what’s with that cop? You’re accusing him in what exactly? Like, I got the body storage part, so     
     his lair got destroyed and there’s no evidence left, but what’s with the parallel worlds shit? Man,  
     you gotta stick up to 1 thing to make it sound believable. Those collages with phone numbers and  
     pics tho is a nice touch. Anyone tried calling?  
**permalink embed report**

                 ↑   [–] **m-a-c-i-n-t-o-s-h-1-9-8-4** 35 points 5 minutes ago  
                 ↓   I did. got yelled at in japanse.  
**permalink embed report**

                                ↑   [–] **erg0n0micc** 2 points 5 minutes ago  
                                ↓   ASDFGHJKL  
                                 **permalink embed report**

                ↑   [–] **amalaa2121** 76 points 2 minutes ago  
                ↓   don’t mind him. that’s the most fucked up attention whoring case I’ve seen since myspace,  
                     like, uploading actual people’s info and urging everyone to report them? disgusting.  
                     so he keeps telling the stories are true, yeah, like everyone’s here but that’s batshit crazy,  
                     not just your regular /r/ format realistic imitations. got too far in the game. don’t feed him.  
                     read the shit if you want to but don’t get invested he’s gonna be reported again anyway  
**permalink embed report**

Nothing changes, huh.

Yuuri’s finger was hovering over the mouse button about to click “report” for a solid minute before he gave up. There was nothing to report.

They were right.

They were right about everything and you can’t just ban someone who’s telling the truth, however ugly it is, even though they barely even consider the thought that they’re addressing a person behind the screen, not just an avatar Yuuri lets them see. That’s normal now. He’s just a little old-fashioned. He really shouldn’t read too much into this.

Dealing with your own net presence has got much harder these days.

Yuuri would normally deactivate his account to start another one like he did every time the bullying got intense enough to affect someone besides him, but…

He chuckled sourly.

_But he refused._

There was something about that old mid-00 era username Yuuri has thought of ever since Detroit happened. There was a nice ring to it _._ Two thousand five, the date he first logged in. _You’ll be okay. Yuuri will be okay_

He wasn’t.

The distant memory of someone ethereally beautiful in motion even through the bad TV signal prism grew weaker since whomever it was had disappeared from the radars. Another story of one-hit wonder. Too bad there wasn’t a stronger motivation for Yuuri at that age to carry on. He’s never been good at being motivated as effortlessly as other kids were. Overthinking did it.

And then Detroit. In retrospective, it seemed stupid to go that far only to realize you’re stuck here. Dreamless. Dead end.

Oh well. Usual story.

Or so it was until _they_ happened.

He wished he were talking about your regular state-specific cryptids. Or your regular stress-induced hallucinations, mostly monster-like things because you’re used to associating fear with monsters like a regular movies-goer you are.

He wished, he really did.

The thing he craved for more was only to stop seeing these things without doing something radical to himself. Yuuri did read about the peculiarities of self-perception in a similar state once he realized his case wouldn’t be helped by therapy. He did see the line he shouldn’t cross.

After all, Yuuri’s life had a goal now, however feeble it was.

He was alive for those who weren’t.

But still managed to rea̴̛ch ͘͟h̛͡im̧͜

̸̢͜*͏*͠*

͢som̕͘e̡͘h̢̧̛ow, even though the service was crap in here. So much for the City of Science or whatever. The bus had wi-fi. Tried to.

While the tourist was sleepily slobbering all over the bus window, camera still in hands, Yura scrolled through the forum for literally anything to read that wouldn’t have too much terms to frustrate him. The translator app he normally used didn’t have a mobile version. He hated feeling incompetent.

The map guy was back with some sick updates and Yura was about to download the blueprints he brought when he noticed a little “1” sunk near the DM icon he hasn’t seen since he had signed up.

He scrolled through the message absent-mindedly, ready to respond with something neutral as it seemed more of a group chat notification than anything else, but then halted.

Read the sender’s username again. And again. And again.

What.

Wait.

 

from: **pitchbender010**  
to: you

Thu 02.03.2017 13:22

**IMPORTANT: site updates**

Hello,

I noticed you’re usually the first one to check the sites after I upload the blueprints. This time I’m warning you, the recent ones are guarded and quite well so. It may be more beneficial for you to let anyone else test the waters first so you could get more data. I am not sabotaging you. The case seems fishy. It would be better for everyone if you didn’t get caught and outed because I misinformed you.

Thank you in advance. Good luck.

**reply   report   forward   e-mail   chat**

 

Uh-huh.

Yura hummed in amusement. Furrowed his brows, mostly by the force of habit, rather than actual irritation, and tapped “chat”. Invisible. Sure. Whatever.

 

 **IceTigerr:** hey  
**IceTigerr:** why  
**IceTigerr:** u think I what  
**IceTigerr:** badder than old farts those?

 

Yura did get an implication. Sit tight, kid. How did the map man know?

He sulked. Well, everyone with enough brain cells could. Yura mostly remained silent, reading the posts, aggravated his English isn’t good enough to have lengthy discussions. Yura just hoped when he did talk, he resembled at least a regular Russian user, whose aggressiveness and bad grammar kinda made it impossible to determine the age. No such luck, apparently.

The Russian urban exploring forums mostly laid broken or updated in 2013 at best, or required an invitation Yura didn’t have yet even after three years of name-making. Assholes.

And now this.

_Ping._

 

 **pitchbender010:** you know you’re not.  
**pitchbender010:** maybe I just need you alive for another mission)

 

Huh. The trademark eyeless smiley of post-soviet space. Okay. Well, he brought more maps of Moscow and the region than Detroit, after all. There were even ones from Kokshetau, mostly abandoned factories, Yura found them scrolling through everything the map man has posted so far. No wonder he’s local.

Still. Just funny. The guy seemed super foreign.

Worth a try.

Yura deeply sighed briefly side-eyeing his dead asleep neighbor and typed:

 

_pitchbender010 is typing…_

**IceTiger:** расчетливый мудак  *****

 

He glared at the phrase and scowled, forcefully tapping “send”. The line popped up and immediately disappeared.

Take that, map man. Here’s to keeping the tiger off his prey.

Yura glanced victoriously at the screen about to go dark.

The response caught him off guard:

 

 **pitchbender010:** есть немного)) ******

 

 _Not so easily flustered, huh_ , he thought, somehow pleased. The map guy sure was all right. It didn’t quite matter, of course.

But still.

Yura kind of missed feeling somewhat satisfied interacting with anyone else but gramps.

Meanwhile, said map guy kept beating records in said unofficial discipline:

 

 **pitchbender010:** still, sorry for that. there’s another map I’m deciphering rn. want this one? as a compensation maybe?

 

Huh, still English. Pretty understandable, Yura has to practice his anyway. Or maybe he’s that kind who’s lived abroad a ton of time and is shy about their Russian. Nevermind. He’s not very hard to understand, anyway.

Yura typed in the response but then deleted it. Gave it a thought. Shrugged it off thinking it’s worth to risk a phone number and several channels he had been following in case the guy was a stalker or something.

He had a weird feeling about it. Too weak and barely pronounced to be fully “good” per se. But the one making him do stuff on a whim:

 

 **IceTigerr:** tg me? do nt trust forum  
**IceTigerr:** @id like here  
**IceTigerr:** can be more maps u will send wen u fuck up my plans again

 

The map man lies quiet right until Yura is at the supermarket near Yuzhnaya, frantically looking for coins for an extremely pissed off cashier in front of the line of people ready to swallow him whole, because, of course.

It’s his telegram this time. Oh wow.

 

 **pitchbender010:** 5873jd72357.jpg   444 Kb  
                                Save file           Open

 **pitchbender010:** and hi again)                                                                                                 _edited 17:21:03_

 

Yura clicked at the profile picture and that was it. He officially lost his shit.

 

 **IceTigerr:** omg ur icon  
**IceTigerr:** r u sirius

 

He got Gary Oldman in response. Jesus fucking Christ.

 

 **pitchbender010:** no. he is.  
**IceTigerr:** I dont block u only bc maps  
**IceTigerr:** srsly man its 2017 u have grumpy cat on ur profile  
**pitchbender010:** that’s for the fsb. let them think I’m some company’s bot trying to seem relatable to kids. to sell stuff.  
IceTigerr: and failin  
**pitchbender010:** of course, or they’d find out I’m human

 

Yura snickered. It’s official. The map man was never cool.

He was fiņe̶̡ ̶̡wi͠th ̡t͡ḩ̵a̷̸̴t̢̡̢.

̕*̕*̴*

̸̕ri͟g͘ht un̛t͢i͠l he woke up from the wave of noises.

Yuuri couldn’t quite understand what was making them. Something was clinking with a frequency akin to a little piece of tin caught in a bicycle wheel. Some kids used to do it by purpose so everyone could hear them riding.

He yawned, rubbing his eyes. The phone screen before him was dimly flickering in the dark. Cold air spread thinly on the floor, oozing from the window. Yuuri noticed something vaguely white and lumpy outside. Snow?..

He grabbed his phone to check the weather.

The next second Yuuri was wide, painfully awake.

The endless string of notification kept running, rendering him speechless. Stunned, he helplessly tried swiping it away to get access to _anything_. He missed, actually pressing one of them.

The sounds dimmed, thinning almost physically, smoke-like, as something quiet and gentle has woven itself into the ice cold silence. A slow and melancholic melody gurgled and murmured along Yuuri’s skin, covering it in prickly goosebumps.

It was that haunting kind you couldn’t switch off by yourself, mortified and mesmerized at the same time.

And just when Yuuri closed his eyes, entranced, a soft voice spilled itself into his sleep-warm ears, dripping from the earlobes right under the collar of his shirt:

– _But he refused._

Yuuri jumped up, everything all-too-hot before his eyes, hands shaking, throat closing up like a clogged pipe spitting long black hair in horror movies he watched. The panic came without warning, as always, biting at his tongue and melting his skin.

Breathe.

He dropped the phone and looked up. The vision crinkled, a rusty vignette framing the blank ceiling. Look at something neutral. Breathe.

And so Yuuri did. Slowly, like learning to do it all over again. Butchering his lungs with cold air and exhaling through gritted teeth, almost choking with saliva.

Good. He’s good.

The voice kept reading Yuuri’s recent story, washing over him like a tidal wave of boiling tar. Spreading his words, once devoid of life. Swallowing and letting them spill like something viscous. The words he wrote, now impregnated with souls Yuuri was trying so hard to let everyone hear, were heavy. Heavier than any celestial body out there, smashing Yuuri’s paper-like human bones into a sickly mash.

It was a disaster.

It was beautiful.

It ruined him.

The message was found among the others Yuuri put into the queue to delete. He wasn’t reading them anymore, not since there has become nothing but threats.

Apparently, Yuuri had to let this one through just so he could say “no”, at least.

 

from: **st.vicino**  
to: you

Sat 04.02.2017 19:57

**VA permission request**

Hi!

I’m writing because I really liked your stories and I was wondering if that’s ok to voice act any of them? I saw the “ok to share with the source” mark but just wanted to make sure, because that’s not just regular sharing, right? Just wanted to make sure.

Here’s the channel link so you could see what I do.

Please respond. TY in advance!

**reply   report   forward   e-mail   chat**

 

There was another one:

 

from: **st.vicino**  
to: you

Thu 02.03.2017 06:22

**[Re:] VA permission request**

Hi!

I might understand why you didn’t respond after I read the replies to your threads. I’m sorry you have to deal with it all. I really hope you’re okay.

My offer still stands, I actually am editing the last go at the moment. I’m going to upload it at 19:00 UTC+3. If you’re still there and you are not okay with that, write me back asap. If you find this later and want the video to be down, write me back.

  * Hi!
  * I’m writing because I really liked your stories and I was wondering if that’s ok to voice act any of them? I saw the “ok to share with the source” mark but just wanted to make sure, because that’s not just regular sharing, right? Just wanted to make sure.
  * Here’s the channel link so you could see what I do.
  * Please respond. TY in advance!



**reply   report   forward   e-mail   chat**

 

Yuuri slowly sat back down, the rustling of the sheets gagging the voice for a second.

He had to reply to these letters. He had to stop avoiding getting hurt and ignoring DMs exactly for cases like these.

He curled up, hiding his face.

Yuuri could still make him take the video down. Shut his profile down. Wait till it all goes still, change his phone number, maybe.

He could.

And so Yuuri typed something frantically and let the phone slip from his hands.

 

from: **yuullbk05**  
to: **st.vicino**

Fri 03.03.2017 08:13

**[Re:] [Re:] VA permission request**

thank you

  * Hi!
  * I might understand why you didn’t respond after I read the replies to your threads. I’m sorry you have to deal with it all. I really hope you’re okay.
  * My offer still stands, I actually am editing the last go at the moment. I’m going to upload it at 19:00 UTC+3. If you’re still there and you are not okay with that, write me back asap. If you find this later and want the video to be down, write me back.



 

  * Hi!
  * I’m writing because I really liked your stories and I was wondering if that’s ok to voice act any of them? I saw the “ok to share with the source” mark but just wanted to make sure, because that’s not just regular sharing, right? Just wanted to make sure.
  * Here’s the channel link so you could see what I do.
  * Please respond. TY in advance!



**reply   report   forward   e-mail   chat**

 

He could.

But he wouldn’t̛͜. ͢

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get comfortable, we're here for a bit longer than I expected.  
> To clarify, my native language is Russian and that's my first time writing a ton of English text for fun. Hell, it's bigger than my thesis presentation was. Hopefully you're gonna tear up closer to the reveal, too. For, uh, other reasons.
> 
> РАШЕН ВОРДЗ!  
> * - "(you're a) calculating asshole"  
> ** - "a little, yeah"
> 
> TRIVIA TIME!  
> Yura took the tourist to an abandoned particle accelerator in Protvino, that's a couple of hours away from Moscow. It would have been the largest particle accelerator on the planet but ended up the way it is after the Soviet Union collapse. Adored by urban explorers for being 21 kilometers of awesome.  
> Here's a report of a person who went exploring there: https://www.28dayslater.co.uk/protvino-particle-collider-russia.t38699  
> More info: http://rusue.com/abandoned-hadron-collider/  
> Epic video reports (subbed) from the group of stalkers:  
> PART 1  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HE9tcPguTYc  
> PART 2  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bdRTtBzrThc
> 
> SOUNDTRACK!  
> Listen: http://suan.fm/mix/1vIFOfD
> 
> 1\. Lorn - Entangled - (metro ride)  
> 2\. j^p^n - service. [] - (not you again)  
> 3\. ₪ jetson - snow - (you'll be okay, yullbk05)  
> 4\. Crystal Castles - Vanished - (Protvino - Moscow)  
> 5\. Amon Tobin - Calculate - (from: pitchbender010)  
> 6\. PORTWAVE - ILY - (r u sirius)  
> 7\. jinsang. - blade - (one snowy morning)  
> 8\. Lorn - Ghosst(s) - (but he refused)


	2. Chapter 2

Attitude has weight Yuuri never got used to. Praised or condemned, he felt the sickening pressure either way, like being slowly dragged into a meat grinder. Or torn between opposing magnets. Or like experiencing claustrophobia being put into a glass box. Or that dizzying several seconds near the stove when you can’t light it and keep inhaling the gas thinking if it’s time to turn the handle and air the kitchen before trying again, or wait a little more, but not too much or you’ll set yourself on fire. Head swimming. This, but multiplied by hours of possibly lethal intoxicating indecision.

There were shades of it, and by the second Yuuri has grown accustomed to all of them. Starting from the little sparks of kind words from his loved ones, hot and itchy, like a never worn sweater. He never got used to their support.

Then there were the ones from strangers. One-word comments Yuuri used to read over and over again, checking if they truly were about his works or there was a glitch, or they wanted to comment another post, or…

He just knew how hard it was to squeeze at least one word out of anyone, he knew it all too well, never leaving any feedback himself and never replying, afraid to be insincere. Or, rather, not sincere _enough_. Couldn’t bring himself to simply pair incoming “cool” with outcoming “thanks!” leaving the noisy silence on the line be, afraid even to breathe in it, so it wouldn’t get creepier and more uncomfortable it had already been.

When Yuuri started drowning in hate, they got easier to dismiss. After all, it’s not like they were meant to brighten his day, it was just some people’s way to be here. Leave a trace. State an opinion. The same kind that’s nagging microcelebs with shoutouts. That was all about them, no him.

The more thorough ones, though…

Yuuri used to print them out. There wouldn’t be many, in his defense.

Each one was a Molotov cocktail of genuine interest, appreciation and kindness he felt like igniting and downing in one gulp. The warmth of these was explosive but grew weaker with every time Yuuri read them over, and over, and over.

He was greedy for more and felt guilty for it, never lacking love and attention of his family.

It’s become worse when he quitted skating.

Yuuri felt insatiable, craving more validation than he could possibly digest.

He was never prepared for the first wave.

Yuuri posted the story that started it all at NoSleep at approximately 4 a. m., gave the code and links a half-hearted check and got into the shower. There was no use in trying to get two hours of a mockery of sleep. He came back to ten comments and they kept arriving. Yuuri barely made out any sense they carried.

He felt sick.

He called in sick, got a tongue lashing and felt even worse. Spent the rest of the day under the blanket, headphones on, as there has become too much light and sounds to handle. The attention made Yuuri’s skin feel tight, barely holding together, growing thinner. Yuuri felt like every particle of dust could break through it and pop it like a soap bubble, rainbow splashes spreading thin and going dark like a gasoline trace in a muddy puddle.

He needed a thicker skin to survive it, and so he grew numb. Several years of frantic storywriting made it inevitable, and so did the comments turning from scalding, bubbly delight to no less unbearable disdain as they actually started checking the trivia Yuuri provided. No slimy grayness of boredom in between.

Of course, the phone numbers and addresses were real.

Of course, people mentioned were all right and royally pissed off once the forum users reached them.

That was bound to happen.

After all, it meant Yuuri made the right thing.

He didn’t know it back then, after the very first story. The backlash almost ended him back then. It took a pure wonder the story turned out to be the first, not the only.

Yuuri thought he was prepared for anything after everything he endured on his way to where he has been now.

And yet, he wasn’t.

_Ping_

The moments before he grabbed the phone with stone-cold fingers, feeling too big and swollen to bend, felt like centuries.

 

from: **st.vicino**  
to: you

Fri 03.03.2017 08:13

**[Re:] [Re:] [Re:] VA permission request**

Are you okay?

  * thank you



**reply   report   forward   e-mail   chat**

 

Yuuri puffed and coughed out a gooey, uneven shard of a laugh. He felt it hurt his throat. _You’ll be okay._ Not today, apparently.

 

from: **yuullbk05**  
to: **st.vicino**

Fri 03.03.2017 08:13

**[Re:] [Re:] [Re:] [Re:] VA permission request**

no

  * Are you okay?
  * thank you



**reply   report   forward   e-mail   chat**

 

The next letter came in mere seconds after Yuuri managed to send his. It contained a Skype login and a note. _Please call me._

Yuuri hasn’t switched the speakers off once he turned on his laptop and the notification blizzard doubled, now howling on one note. A singular alert chime, made with the intention to sound soothing, got looped. _Probably should report the developers,_ he thought, barely registrable in the wall of distorted sounds.

Fingers still felt like rubber tubes, missing keys as Yuuri typed the name in and sent a request. The little notification window got lost immediately, but then it all went dark and the roaring hell hushed as the incoming call rang.

The first seconds were soaked in the noisy silence Yuuri was way too familiar with, perfectly literal this time. Then the caller took a breath and said:

– I see. I can hear. Let’s turn them off, shall we?

Yuuri nodded slowly before realizing no one can see him.

– Hello? Are you there?

The voice as Yuuri remembered it was almost physical, thick with concern, slightly accented. Still mesmerizingly beautiful.

– Yes, – he croaked in return, barely audible. Cleared his throat, – I… I’m…

– Okay, – said the caller, relieved, – All right. Breathe. Let me fix this. Listen, okay? Listen to me.

And so he diḑ, ̧

*̷͜**̧͢

ca̧͘u̡ti͢ous and hesitant at first, like he was used to be. Most of the stories about some creepers hunting teens on game forums were just stuff to scare little brats off computers when their geezers grew desperate and were too dumb to read something on the matter or just communicate, for starters. Because, you know, roaming around fucking property up like the previous generation is way healthier than that. Just your generic maniac creepypasta to spread the panic and let the government accept another fucked up censorship law. To keep the kids safe, yeah. Just that.

Mostly.

Yura was far from reckless despite what people thought of him. He couldn’t afford to get damaged. He only risked checking the site first if he was sure he had all data on escape routes and could retreat safely anytime. He only got into brawls if he knew he could win. He only took tourists to the places he checked more than three times and only those who paid in advance. Only those who turned in alone, rarely pairs. Left immediately when they brought more people, returning money and blacklisting them the next day. Got invested into a shocker and mace just for the sake of it. Used it more than he’d like to. Mostly rabid stray dogs.

Mostly.

He never revealed himself to be _the_ IceTigerr and called himself a representative. Never showed his face guiding the tourists, most of it covered by the flu mask. Hoped whatever shit he managed to perform on his old laptop sufficed, using VPN apps, hastily installed scripts and manuals helping set false location and hide most of the info about his device and accounts. The forum one and telegram seemed enough. Browser history remained sinfully clean. He knew there were more effective ways to remain hidden but still was a little hesitant, seeing how a fact of having Tor installed could itself be used against him if anyone would sue him for trespassing or something.

Still, could be worse. Like the kids selling their pics for thirty roubles, just coupla years younger than him, clearly taking advantage of the loophole in the law.

Being sixteen is such a drag in this country these days. Barely legal in all ways possible, hah.

You know who was illegal, though? That map guy.

Yura stole a glance on the screen again. Tapped on the table. Looked back into the book, still on the same page, as it had been five and ten and thirty minutes ago. Unblocked the phone.

Nothing.

He growled, only to let his shoulders slump, and hit the table with his forehead. A tiny whiny noise emerged, reflecting from the wood.

Yura completely forgot how addicting human interaction can be. No matter how wary he still was about the whole deal, Yura missed the high of a good conversation when you could speak about anything but yourselves and just ride it, almost careless, a little giddy and breathless at the end of it. No need to open up just to briefly touch someone. Never knew he craved one until he found himself caught in the act. Sounds like a hook-up. An emotional hook-up.

With an asshole who kept leaving him on the read. And there Yura thought they had a special something, right after the map man confessed he was a little scared talking to people sounding like teens as they turn out to be classical creepystache cases. Yura stroke back saying he speaks like a facebook mom, meaning he’s probably a teen girl trying to sound adult.

 

 **IceTigerr:** well shit you know to much I am really bald geezer I’m 50 and my name is sergey ivanovich zalupko  
**pitchbender010:** nice to meet you, good sir, I’m nadya, I’m 13 and I’m protocoling every letter for future blackmail material.  
**IceTigerr:** man your too good at this im dyin  
**pitchbender010:** don’t you “man” a young lady, sergey ivanovich.  
**IceTigerr:** AAAAAAAAAAAALDY  
**pitchbender010:** or a bunch of agents behind this account, I haven’t thought this part yet  
**IceTigerr:** how do I call you then?  
**pitchbender010:** otabek

 

Yura stopped typing for a second and considered the last line. Sounded like a name that could be real. Or that kind of a pseud when you use the most generic name possible. Each year less people were fine with going by their actual names online and opted for these ones, but they were mostly Russian, occasionally Tatar, Armenian, or even English and Japanese, like in good ol’ 2010, this time barely even trying to create a false identity. Just something looking like a lazy fake page.

This one was a tiny bit too specific to be fake. Probably. Yura admitted he was becoming biased. He kinda wanted to commit to at least being on good terms with a person providing him with vital information and even dared to hope it was somewhat mutual.

Крокодил Гена ищет друзей. God, he was bad at this.

 

 **IceTigerr:** name of the feds operation catching creepy old guy?  
**IceTigerr:** or every fed is otabek?  
**pitchbender010:** guess I’m a pretty multi-faceted person. going by many names.  
**pitchbender010:** i can still go by “nadya” if you’re confused. or a combination of 2.  
**IceTigerr:** гадя петрович хренова))))0)0

 

Yura was pretty sure he could hear the map guy (the map girl?!) sigh on the other side of the city.

 

 **pitchbender010:** …let’s stick to “otabek”, okay?)

 

You don’t go on first name basis with someone you just briefly promised to bring a map, right? Like… it means at least several more lines into the talk before someone abandons the chat, right?

Yura pursed his lips, staring at a wall, giving himself a break. If he kept it low-key, no one would notice he was a clingy brat starved for feeling safe around someone.

There wouldn’t be much harm if anything went wrong. It’s an investment. A trust fund investment, har har. Nothing else.

 

 **IceTigerr:** k. i’m yura btw

 

Here. He did it. He made a stupid thing.

 

 **pitchbender010:** hi, yur)

 

A good stupid thing.

 

 **pitchbender010:** hope “zalupko” was fake too)

 

Ok, forget it, he’s awful. The map guy. Otabek. Otabek is awful.

Yura kinda missed not knowing this nerd at all. That time Otabek was silent because he was on a mission to get more maps, barely posting, being cryptic and stuff. Local cryptid he is. Map man. Someone found Mothman and fucked him and here we are.

This time he didn’t answer because he never wanted to stay in the first place. Drop in, leave a warning the site is being guarded, let someone else get busted, depart when it’s safe. It was Yura who dragged him into the chat because fuck it, he felt lonely and Otabek was too polite to say “no”.

Hope you’re proud now, tovarishch Zalupko.

 

_today_

**IceTigerr:** morning i chekt the map. its small. u have bigger in original skan format?  
**IceTigerr:** please  
**IceTigerr:** i cant see shit its all in squares I traid  
**IceTigerr:** also  
**IceTigerr:** that long vid is super fucked I don’t know ill watch it again maybe next time  
**IceTigerr:** its cool but still fucked up  
**IceTigerr:** and I want to understand   
**IceTigerr:** also abt that 1 othe thisng its 2017 and synthwave is a meme  
**IceTigerr:** don’t tell me u listen it srsly u can sleep to this its like that drone shit  
**IceTigerr:** oh my god https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3tkC92W9D4g  
**IceTigerr:** fuck sorry wrong chat  
**IceTigerr:** how you delete this  
**IceTigerr:** HA  
**IceTigerr:** you still see it right? fuck.  
**IceTigerr:** k well they are cute  
**IceTigerr:** i dunno watch it if u want  
**IceTigerr:** aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa fuck it  
**IceTigerr:** that synt shit is ok  
**IceTigerr:** honestly its good r u happy now  
**IceTigerr:** I liked if  
**IceTigerr:** shit they deleted everything from vk bc copyright  
**IceTigerr:** can you send more?  
**IceTigerr:** ok man if im dumb jus say it  
**IceTigerr:** *just  
**IceTigerr:** *I’m

 

Yura was sure nailing it. Jesus Christ, he wanted to smack himself. But that cattery stream was really good, like… anyone could use some quality kittens after a long day of dealing with some douches? How it was again… the Frei’s one, about the assholes and the kittens… «вокруг мудаки, мудаки, и никаких котиков»? «Кроликов»? There were rabbits in the book, but nevermind. What’s bad in sending it?

And, well, Otabek did bring some vids for him to check when they were about to disconnect at 3 a. m. maybe? So, Yura just had to leave feedback, honest one, or what’s the point then? And okay, that Depeche Mode rip-off was good. The Germans. They were soothing. Four cat streams outta five. And their texts were simple to understand. It just was unusual, Yura sticked to other stuff and never pictured himself listening to something like that. Their music tastes were quite different and some electronic stuff turned out to be their common ground. That prog-rock just seemed… a little too soon? Something he could come back to later, maybe. The same happened with “Master and Margarita”, he started it at six or so, read only some pages about a giant black cat and put it back. Returned to it at thirteen, read the love story, got smashed by it, didn’t quite understand funny parts. At fifteen, finding himself where he was, Yura was finally able to understand the satire. He was so proud he finally finished the book.

Same here. There were things that needed him to deliberate and grow up a bit before returning to them.

Probably it applied to some people too. Too bad he rushed things.

Yura gave a string of frantic misspelled messages another read.

Well, at least he could try to be a graceful loser, then. He would still need building plans even after that awkwardness galore. Gotta keep it cool. Relatively. Or at least let it sink to the violin orchestra in style.

 

 **IceTigerr:** Sorry, don’t read everything. I just need a map. Thank you.  
**IceTigerr:** ладно хуй с ним там неоч мелко можно прочитать все если издали и всмотреться  
**IceTigerr:** Спасибо. Извини за беспокойство.  
**pitchbender010:** так  
**pitchbender010:** стоп

 _pitchbender010_ _is_ _typing…_

 

Yura nearly dropped his phone

 

 **pitchbender010:** sorry, just got out on a break.  
**pitchbender010:** I’ll send you a map once I’m home  
**pitchbender010:** give me 2 hours **  
pitchbender010:** ok?

_pitchbender010 is typing…_

 

He was busy. Of fucking course he was, not everyone is a shrinker. God, that’s embarrassing.

 

 **pitchbender010:** I know it’s douche-y not to answer right away, hate it myself  
**pitchbender010:** if im not answering I’m sleeping or working ok?  
**pitchbender010:** or lagging  
**pitchbender010:** those kitetns were too cute I thought how to comment too hard and forgot

 

His spelling was degrading. Either he was freaking out for some reason or that’s Yura’s bad influence. Probably the latter. Definitely the latter.

 

 **pitchbender010:** and you don’ t ha ve to listen to everythig I send I mean you can, It;s just, we cant normally talk about anythign that’s not trespessing  
**pitchbender010:** so I just hrew a ton of vids here hoping there’s gonna be aat least one you’d like  
**pitchbender010:** *at. Shit.

 

Congratulations, Yura, you’ve broken the map man.

 

 **IceTigerr:** ok, allringt. chill.  were cool. sorry I freaked out.

 

Otabek stopped typing at once. Wrote something, deleted it, tried again. The final version looked far shorter than the message you could write during the time he spent on it:

 

 **pitchbender010:** that’s ok. i’m sorry too. it’s been a long time since I last talked to someone new.

 

Like Yura didn’t know. Still, it was a relief that both sides ended up feeling painfully embarrassed. That was fair, after all.

 

 **IceTigerr:** same.  
**IceTigerr:** thats fine  
**IceTigerr:** we’re super busy persons working underground no time for normal communikation  
**pitchbender010:** good reasoning. hope I didn’t sound like a dork

 

Yura smiled:

 

 **IceTigerr:** u did  
**IceTigerr:** im ok with that  
**pitchbender010:** ok, now you’re just being a bully. say goodbye to your map  
**IceTigerr:** ЦРЩФ  
**IceTigerr:** БЛ;  
**IceTigerr:** ЭУ  
**IceTigerr:** NO FAIR  
**IceTigerr:** HEY  
**IceTigerr:** DONT BE A BITCH  
**IceTigerr:** BITCHBENDER010  
**IceTigerr:** fuck it still sounds cool  
**pitchbender010:** I planned it))  
**pitchbender010:** but then everything changed when the fire nation attacked

 

It took Yura some time to get the reference in English. Once he did, he literally howled:

 

 **IceTigerr:** OTABEK THE LAST BITCHBENDER  
**IceTigerr: *** 010  
**pitchbender010:** pfffffFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

 

– Yur, tone it down!

He almost fell off the chair. Crap, when did gramps return? Yura was going to make something for dinner before he did.

– Sorry, gramps! – he shouted back and stifled a little laugh.

– What’s funny?

– Nothing! Just a friend of mine being a dork!

– What?

– Go watch your hockey, deda, I’ll get us something!

“A friend of his”, huh. Yeah, he wished.

Still, there was something nice and unusual about how it sounded. Something Yura would like to̴ ̵get ͝us̡ed ͡t͠o͡,̶

*͢*̴͞*

j̵us͜t͢ ͝to suŗvive the never-ending cacophony that seemed to resonate in every bone, crushing them with slow, deliberate precision of a guillotine.

– Hold on.

Yuuri swallowed whatever he wanted to say, as it barely resembled human language sounds, any language, honestly. It had little slimy legs, twitching bonelessly against his pursed pale lips, the ugliest cry for help to ever pierce the air.

He was drowning on dry land.

The caller’s voice, still somehow loud enough to perceive, was his lifeline. He was muttering to himself, trying to access the control panel. The caller was using another OC, so he was a bit lost, and Yuuri was too stunned to be of any help besides having TeamViewer pre-installed and never changing system language to Japanese.

What a waste.

– Так, где эти ебаные настройки… а, вот, app notifications… One minute, I’m almost done. Are you here with me?

The caller sounded like a 911 operator. As if he was used to being a reassuring presence, chanting _the help is on the way, be there, stay put, I’m here with you, you will survive this, I promise._

Yuuri must have been imagining things, yet his overwhelmed, strained brain screamed for him to remember it, like it was the last thing he had to do before the violent sounds tore his head apart.

– I am, – he whispered, and the silence fell.

Merciful. Dark. Devoid of any sounds but the slightly noisy breathing miles away from him. Yuuri found himself inhaling and exhaling in unison like learning to do it anew.

– Done, – said the caller, letting out a deep, tired sigh.

– Thank you.

The relief hit him so hard Yuuri felt like crying. He yet had to get used to silence again. The caller let him, waiting patiently.

A little less patiently Yuuri hoped for.

– Um…

– That’s…

They both stopped. The caller cleared his throat. Yuuri coughed awkwardly.

– Well, uh… congratulations. You’re popular.

– Woo-hoo, – said Yuuri with no intonation whatsoever.

The caller gave a tiny dry laugh in response.

– That’s… much less glamorous than I imagined it to be, – Yuuri admitted.

Deep sigh.

– I am so sorry for that. Now when I see how hard you took it all, I realize it was a dick move.

– Yeah, well… It did look like a dead acc. Before I posted the, um… that story.

Yuuri stopped, contemplating the route the train of thought was taking him to. It was about to get personal. Clearly not something the man behind the screen wanted to hear seconds after they met.

Still, the stranger’s presence was irrationally soothing. He must understand, being there in the spotlight himself. Constantly. It could be worth it to share. Just keep it casual.

– And I, uh… I kind of got what I deserved. I did imagine it. I post stuff for people to read, you know. So… I used to daydream.

– Yeah, – the word turned out husky, almost voiceless, tenderly touching Yuuri’s ear. He swallowed.

– Yeah, – he echoed, – The… first ones, at least. The stories. They were just… satisfying to write. I just loved doing it. And uh… saw no harm dreaming of getting praised for what I love. Just… not. Not like that.

– I understand. We… we all deserve it. – the caller said quietly, as if afraid to scare something away, still thin and translucent, barely there, yet Yuuri could feel it slightly tugging at his chest.

It’s been so long since someone said they understood and just were there for him.

Even like this.

Yuuri missed it.

He missed it so much, away from any living soul who gave a shit about him.

– You do. Not like that, but… that’s just how it is. Never only praise, or… that wouldn’t be true. It just does it, just evokes all kinds of emotions, if it does, it works, you know? I loved what you did, and so that was… my way to appreciate it, of sorts. My gratitude for making me feel inspired, for once.

– That’s how you see it.

The caller abruptly stopped, the ghostly train of humming vibration, following his words, cut off.

Yuuri shivered:

– I mean…

– I know, – the voice doused him in eerily calmness. A calamity of calmness, – That’s partially why I insisted on calling you. It wasn’t right. I’m taking it down.

– Don’t.

Yuuri shut his mouth, surprised with himself. Apparently, so did the caller.

Shit.

– You made it work. You said you liked voicing it, so… I’m not taking it from you. If, you know… you haven’t said it just to make me feel good. God, I… I really don’t care anymore, to be honest, – he muttered wetly in his palm, covering his face. He felt infinitely tired.

The morning has just started and Yuuri was drained already.

– Okay.

He couldn’t believe his ears:

– You mean…

– Okay. I’m keeping it. But I can delete any mentions of you or leave one source only. That’s gonna make it less of a flood it is, give you some air before blocking everyone out. How about that?

The caller made an audible sip of whatever was near to wet his throat. Yuuri felt like downing something morning inappropriate too.

– Okay, – he sighed.

– Okay?

– Okay.

– Really? – the voice chimed, somewhat teasingly.

Yuuri gave it a crooked smirk:

– No. But it feels a little better when I say it.

He never thought he could _hear_ someone smile before, yet here it was, thin and crusty, yet warm. The kind of smile that left sweet prickly crumbs all over your skin, that you kept feeling even after changing your bed sheets. You do mostly get this kinds of smiles in bed.

Yuuri pursed his own lips, letting no bit of non-existent aftertaste out. He was too exhausted to feel guilty about it.

He smiled back, invisible, yet it seemed his company managed to perceive it, relief in his voice:

– Feel better?

– Yeah. A bit.

– I’m glad.

The silence made its way back, filling the room with air, stingy but breathable again. Yuuri still could feel the string hanging along his throat loose, connecting his hollow insides to the voice from the other continent. Only visible when catching light, like a fish line.

Yuuri wanted to stay captivated just a little more.

– I…

– Then…

They stopped again and huffed out half-amused, half-irritated laughs.

– You go first.

The caller chuckled:

– Ok, I actually wanted to ask if it’s all right to call you back later, because…

– Oh.

– Yeah, it’s time to go and the commute is hellish and…

– Yeah. Yeah, sure. It’s evening where you are, right?

– Yeah, almost six. You?

– Eleven, seven hours behind you.

– Hello from the future, then. Well, it’s Russia, so… slightly dystopian future.

Yuuri laughed out loud, the sound seemed too clear and happy it sounded foreign.

– Well, if it’s short, you could maybe DM me, or…

– That’s the thing, it’s better if I describe it like this, just… you know, talking. I actually wanted to ask a thing, but you… maybe later? It’s not the right time to talk about it, when you’re… like this.

Yuuri felt his shoulders going stiff:

– What do you mean?

The caller let the silence go stale and start dripping before trying the waters:

– That’s enough for you for today. I made you feel bad once. There’s a quota.

– And now you expect me to wait for you to do it again, huh.

– It’s not this. It’s… a very stupid reason, actually. God… All right. Promise you won’t hang up on me.

– I can’t make promises like this.

– Okay. Understandable. Then promise you’ll call back eventually after you let it sink, okay?

– What… okay, listen, uh…

– Victor.

– Yuuri. Listen, I…

The caller took a deep breath and interrupted him, like diving head-on into a waterfall, eyes closed, barely thinking, so there’s no time to go back:

– Your stories are true, aren’t they, Yuuri?

That was the last straw.

Yuuri choked with air, mix of confusion and sudden rage exploding in his skull, making him dizzy:

– Ah. I see now.

– You don’t. Please, answer me.

– Oh, but I do, – Yuuri heard himself hiss, barely civil, on the verge of screaming, – I believe, I was clear in the notes.

– Crystal. Yet I am asking you again: do you claim you described deaths of people that once existed?

– What’s your deal?

– Yuuri.

– Are you happy now? Oh god, you sure are. I don’t care. I’m shutting it down. The profile. You wanted this? Have it. Just have it. Happy? You won.

– No.

– Leave me alone!

– Yelena Higgs.

Yuuri tripped over his feet, a step away from the laptop. He thought he imagined it.

The caller’s voice grew loud and cruel. Bulletproof.

– You got her wrong. It’s “Vi”, “Vilena”. A Soviet era name. How did she reach you?

He felt his head spin from shaking it:

– No, you… that’s too much, okay? There is a limit. You can’t just take it further than that, it’s… god, I’d rather be beaten than this.

– That’s why I didn’t want to tell you, you hear me?

– Please, leave me be.

The caller took another sip of something and tried to calm down, his breath slowing down.

Yuuri had to finish the call right then. Right. Then.

He didn’t.

– They never found her.

His vision began to blur, salty sparks before his eyes.

– They never will.

– She’s alive, – Yuuri whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks, – They c… called her. T.. the people from the f… forum.

– And so did I. Why is she alive, Yuuri?

– I don’t know.

– Why is a girl from Polotsk alive in the States, when she was murdered, like the rest of the captives? And there are casefiles confirming it?

– Don’t know… don’t know…

– Anyone else contacted you? She mentioned Polina. The previous group, she almost got away… Yuuri?

He couldn’t handle it anymore. He was openly crying, confused, enraged, torn by never passing pity to whatever used to be a young girl trying to make way for herself here. Wrong place, wrong time. Just out of luck, despite fighting so hard. Unknown, like the rest of them. Whoever started it all were arrested in 1993, never telling exactly where the others were buried. The death sentence wiped away the only people who kept a memory of the girls here, attached to this realm.

They might have just forgotten.

And she just wanted to be remembered.

– Yuuri…

– She just wanted people t… – he weeped, – to remember her...

– You did. You remembered her. You wrote about her.

– And s-she… she’s alive now…

– Do you know why?

Yuuri threw his head back, the light swimming before him, eyes going dry.

His voice was gravely, still heaved with the ghost of Vilena Higgs, now perfectly alive:

– I have a theory.

Victor let his words linger before replying:

– And so̧ d̡͜o͏ ̕͜I.̶

͞*̢̕*͢͜*̛͡͡

̕͘– _…ş̛o̢͏ ͠no̴҉ ͢pr̸ob̛͏̕lem. B..._

  
The voice message stopped, and Yura raised his eyebrows.

– Huh.

And hit “play” again. Just to make sure he hasn’t imagined it.

_– …’ts just faster than typing. Hello. Saw you going to Baryshikha, if that’s so and you have some time, you may want to check one thing. So, supposedly, there’s a corridor or a niche closed off, you start from the portal near Skhodnya, move ahead towards the sewer, count two drops, turn right and tell me if there is a grid somewhere nearby. It’s either a niche or a corridor, probably for the pond drainers or could be for a metro line nearby. I don’t have it, the last time I shot in there it was dark. I’m going to send you the route. There… huh. There actually could be mirror pieces I’ve left. Surveyor things, I’ll tell you later, if you want. So, anyway…_

Someone called Otabek from afar and he sped up. Yura heard air washing the speaker as he started moving, voice still calm and soft, yet breathy:

_– Sorry, gotta go. I know it’s sudden, if you won’t have enough time, so… no problem. Bye._

Yep. He certainly has not. That seemed like Otabek all right and he happened to sound nice. He had a nice voice. His words seemed to have weight and he spoke as if it took a bit of an effort to assemble them into phrases, like actually lifting marble slabs up and carefully putting them down, until they made up something solid, yet elegant looking. The kind you’d like to spend hours listening to. The kind you’d give your kidney to, if they’d ask politely. The kind you’d go to an 8 a. m. lecture for, or so Yura heard. He’d like to hear more. That one was him speaking Russian, they had an arrangement of sorts to only use it for emergency cases, because someone here still needed to pass his exams. How does he sound in English, though? Is there a third one? There must be, whatever it is, Otabek never told where he was from. Yura wanted to hear all of them. Are they close enough to ask Otabek to narrate something? Anything would do. The terms and their translations, maybe, Yura could learn more if he would... The whole dictionary. Or, uh… Just ask him to name whatever he sees, which is totally not a weird thing to ask? Yeah. Well, fuck.

What’s more important, though… Otabek didn’t second-guess himself letting Yura know what he sounds like. Which is not much, of course. They realized they were here to stay, when it turned out that getting through their days became much easier when they could just be there for each other, the chat turning into the mess of links, pictures, enthusiastic bilingual swears (mostly from Yura) and sometimes walls of text (mostly from Otabek). Both agreed they respect each other enough to never try digging any info any of them would not be willing to share. How they look like. Where they live. What they do. It was only fair.

Living in the same city, they’ve never seen each other out of respect to their privacy and as a result of a trust pact they made so none of them could be traced through the other. That was a wise thing to do.

Yura could do wise. He was a smart guy. Smart. Cautious. Respectful.

Starved for little things like these, showing he is trusted enough.

 **IceTigerr:** got it  
**IceTigerr:** goin in. nice place to hide bodies  
**IceTigerr:** totally recomend 10/10  
**IceTigerr:** ill get u some pics  
**pitchbender010:** thanks, yur, that will help a lot)  
**pitchbender010:** see if it’s passable but don’t go exploring yet  
**pitchbender010:** yura.  
**IceTigerr:** what  
**pitchbender010:** not now. next time, ok? intel mission, 007.  
**IceTigerr:** не подлизывайся))

Yura laughed softly, but then sighed. Getting distracted was the only con of this sudden alliance, but sometimes the most annoying one.

He slipped the phone into the pocket and zipped it, ready to go. This shit won’t explore and record itself. Not in this century.

***

Something clinked in his right ear. Otabek squinted, yawned and paused, too sleepy to identify the notification sound right away. Blinked once. Opened the message.

Blinked twice. Hard.

Yura has finally unscrewed whatever hold the drain grid that, indeed, was there, unmarked on the map, and now Otabek could guide him back, so he could “be where the people are”. There were two pieces of evidence to back it up: said grid, slimy and green, hanging on the only screw and giving a glimpse on the darkness behind it. And another one.

Yura’s tired, but toothy smile.

Apparently, he was just too happy to share, despite being usually reluctant to flash his face around. Apparently, Otabek has just become an exception.

 

 **IceTigerr:** here  
**IceTigerr:** man im so tired ido nt even have it in me to cap[s  
**IceTigerr:** caps **  
IceTigerr:** not goin in promise

 

It took Otabek some time to connect Yura’s usual grumpy manner of speaking with the face looking at him from the screen. Once they clicked, something else did. Like a tiny sound of an update or a swishy click inside an old laptop when the disk is about to be read.

Something important to memorize. Something easy, barely changing anything, yet something he should definitely keep in mind.

 

 **IceTigerr:** hey  
**IceTigerr:** hey bek  
**IceTigerr:** bek  
**IceTigerr:** bekkkkkk  
**IceTigerr:** bek. ples come bek.  
**pitchbender010:** sorry, half-asleep myself  
**pitchbender010:** here, found you a shortcut, it’s safe, just don’t drop, ok? there are big cold puddles.  
IceTigerr: seriously.  
**pitchbender010:** ladders. they’re good. try them.  
**pitchbender010:** need me to stay?  
**pitchbender010:** send you a better route?  
**IceTigerr:** im fine dont worry beka geez  
**IceTigerr:** i kno u tird  
**IceTigerr:** tired  
**IceTigerr:** bc!! u typ e for a centry  
**IceTigerr:** LF ,KZLM  
**IceTigerr:** да бля

 

Otabek snorted.

 

 **pitchbender010:** we both need sleep. let’s try tomorrow, k?  
**IceTigerr:** bek how do u eng u monstr  
**pitchbender010:** well we did arrange to  
**pitchbender010:** and I’ve just seen something uplifting  
**IceTigerr:** what

 

Otabek pasted the link once he got the message. It led to the ten-hour version of “The Eye of The Tiger”.

Yura sent another selfie, looking in the camera like in “The Office”, yet slightly biting his lower lip, fighting a smile.

Otabek opted to remember it as well.

And saved both pictures. Just in case.

 

 **pitchbender010:** you have a little smear on your nose)  
**IceTigerr:** отъебись

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> РАШЕН ВОРДЗ & TRIVIA!  
> (hoo boy, there's a lot here this time)  
> (that's why the voice message is in eng)  
> (i'm really not into tolstoy's bullshit with letters in french with a km long translation)  
> (traumatized for life)
> 
> ✦ Zalupko (Залупко) - an invented sirname, the closest would be Dickson. Dickheadson, even. C'mon, he's 16 and I'm not aging, of course there was gonna be a dick joke))  
> ✦ Крокодил Гена ищет друзей - literally "Ghena the Crocodile is looking for friends", a way to describe a person desperately trying to befriend somebody. From this masterpiece, of course^ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PD81b0__V5U (the piece from 5:00 is just. too close to home)  
> ✦ Гадя Петрович Хренова - a memetic way to say "a really fucked up name", originated from a brilliant sketch about a little girl, who got lost. She turned out to have a weird name, a male patronymic and the last name sounding similar to "it sucks" The policeman trying to help her states he'd get lost with this kind of name too.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XMWiN1mnw7c  
> ✦ "...вокруг мудаки, мудаки, и никаких кроликов" - a quote from "A Petition Book" by Max Frei, an author collab that used to be crazy popular in mid-00 and still has a loyal fandom. I'd actually recommend it, it may be just a comfortable world to find yourself in.  
> ✦ ладно хуй с ним там неоч мелко можно прочитать все если издали и всмотреться - "ok, fuck it, the font is not that small, readable from afar if you try"  
> ✦ Спасибо. Извини за беспокойство. - "Thank you. Sorry for disturbing you"  
> ✦ так. стоп. - "ok, stop (right there)"  
> ✦ Так, где эти ебаные настройки… - "Right, where are those fucking 'preferences'..."  
> ✦ Baryshikha - the underground river in Moscow. Here is a report from the sewer connected to it (unsubbed, rus): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i8v3GS3eSrc  
> ✦ не подлизывайся - "don't suck up to me"  
> ✦ да бля - "well fuck"  
> ✦ отъебись - "fuck off"
> 
> ALSO:  
> ✦ The German group mentioned is De/Vision and I adore them. Have some:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QefiZTnz0qE  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vys3ixwgIEU  
> ✦ The prog-rock MV mentioned must have been any of Tool, probably the least gory Otabek could find  
> https://youtu.be/UhjG47gtMCo  
> I remember myself thinking "uh-huh, there's some curious metaphorical shit going on and the shock value makes perceive it better but aside from that I have no idea wtf is going on" in a similar situation  
> But we ended up agreeing the music itself was quite good
> 
> SOUNDTRACK!  
> Listen: http://suan.fm/mix/iYXVOfo
> 
> 1\. mt. marcy - last night i cried in the shower - (attitude has weight)  
> 2\. △Sco△ - а то мы захлебнемся - (are you here with me?)  
> 3\. Lorn - Acid Rain - (the silence)  
> 4\. PORTWAVE - SHADOW LADY - (a curious tiger)  
> 5\. Volor Flex - Believer - (making friends like a champ)  
> 6\. FLUGHAND - mo - (congratulations, you're popular)  
> 7\. chief - 2:59 - (you deserve better)  
> 8\. Lost Son - oh look, it's raining again - (hello from the future)  
> 9\. FRAUNHOFER DIFFRACTION - on the bottom - (please remember vilena higgs)  
> 10\. Small Black - No Stranger - (the eye of the tiger)
> 
> And here I'd like to note it might take a lot of time till the next update, but I do want to continue and will try my best to do so. Hopefully you'll bear with me^^ See you around!


End file.
